Friday, August 15, 2008

Balls And Porn

I can't remember how it went, exactly, because at the time I'd been drinking, but when I first met Heather B. - writing below - in person I was all like "I LOVE YOU" and she was all "DO YOU?" and I was all "DOOD! SHUT UP! I LOVE YOU!" and then I hugged her and slobbered on her and then - after a brief intermission to put a McDonald's bag on my head (not this year, though; last year. This year I forewent the hat, the better to avoid security) - proceeded to talk her ear off about no end of fascinatingly banal things. And I would do it all over again, a million times. Because I love her that much. You got that, Heather? I LOVE YOU. And now that you've written 'balls' all over my blog, I love you even more.

I am a Scorpio in most every sense of the word. I am brooding, intense, tenacious, obsessive and if you piss me off; may God have mercy on your soul. The way that I am able to tick off each of these things and say, yes, that is what I am and I have no problems with it is an acceptance of self that has taken 24 years to realize and embrace. No one likes the girl who is over the top and extreme but I am also a loyal person and I will defend my beliefs and the people I love until I am blue in the face. I like being that person.

Then there’s the sex part of being a Scorpio: The belief that we, being the passionate sign, are inherently interested in sexual matters or that we use sex as an expression of love. It explains why through college I was referred to as ‘asexual’ or ‘prudish’ because I was physically unable to allow my brain to move to a point where I could go forth and get laid every single night. It was incomprehensible. And to think that I had friends who thought that I did not want to get laid? Are you fucking kidding me? I remember sitting with a group of girlfriends and I suddenly said out loud “Holy shit, I need to have sex”. My friend Pam looked as if the wind had been knocked out of her because “my God, YOU need to have SEX?! YOU NEVER TALK ABOUT SEX!” Yes, well just because I don’t feel the need to discuss it as I’m casually brushing my teeth or opening a bottle of Chenin-Blanc does not mean that I am not a human being who would like to get some ass.

But still it’s hard for me to just come out and use the word sex without my face feeling like its on fire. Why yes, I can play it cool, calm and collected but on the inside I cannot believe I just used that word and I said it OUT LOUD and in front of people. Meanwhile the conversation continues and I’m dying a slow and painful death in my head because I am an adult who just said ‘sex’. Even writing it just now I had to look around in my office, where the door is closed because it could be read on the screen because all of my coworkers have x-ray vision.

When guest posting was mentioned I casually emailed Catherine back to say “Ok! But it will be about balls and porn” and then I hid under my desk because I said balls and porn and perhaps I should use far gentler language for a person who has a Frankenvulva. And that was a big step for me because then I tweeted about the balls and the porn and each time I said balls and porn I raised my hands in the air and said, “Yeah I said it! BALLS AND PORN, MOTHERFUCKER! HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW?!” While feeling all drunk with power with my new found sexual freedom and ability to say porn in front of a few hundred people, I was feeling good. I was grinning. I went home and said ‘cock’ in front of my lesbian roommate because good lord, I can do it. And then I talked about my boobs with my male best friend and you guys, it felt AWESOME.

Then I went to work all prepared to write an essay about balls and porn and how much good balls and porn can bring to one’s life. The freedom that comes with the release of using both words casually. So I sat in my office in my comfy chair and started typing away because I was going to write about sex and it would win me a Pulitzer. And then I got a knock on the door. It was my mother. She sat down and asked what I was doing and about a trip we’re taking to Manhattan on Sunday and then she peeked over and asked what I was writing about. I could feel the sweat dripping off my forehead and down my back. My heart started to beat faster and yet I was prepared to say “Mom, I am writing about balls and porn and I may have just said cock”. I could feel the words coming off my tongue. I’m an adult. I can use these words, right? Right. And then I looked back at my gorgeous and lovely mother. My mother who summers on Martha’s Vineyard and abstains from alcohol and wears David Yurman. I couldn’t do it. “I’m writing about personal finance. About blogs and advertising and my mutual love and fear of Suze Orman”. She shrugged. “Oh…ok. Well bye”. And like that she was gone.

She closed the door behind her and I let out a sigh and whispered, “Balls and motherfucking porn”. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Porn, it's really just popcorn said with a full moths. And balls, well, I prefer it to the way spanish speaking people use "huevos" or "eggs" for balls, because that really just grosses me out. Then again, my list of words I have issues with is long and storied: moist, horny, loaf, asap <---see I even include acronyms. Issues.

Yay Heather!! I snorted and giggled all the way through. It is an awesome thing to be able to just say balls and porn without flinching, even better when we can say such things in front of our mothers. (I can't either.)

I love it. I don't share your fear of speaking about sex in person but I do fear writing about and offending some of the people that read my blog. I wrote about pubic hair today - funny and strangely liberating. So I completely get where you are coming from!

When you do finally scour up the courage to say Balls and Porn to your mom, do us a favor and have a camera handy. I don't care if you take a photo of your face or hers because I am sure that they both will be priceless!

For me, the most empowering word to say is Motherfucker. I have no idea why, or what that says about me, but goodness, how I love that word. But, yeah, I could never say that in front of my mom. But balls and porn? no problem. I'm a Cancer/Leo cusp so I think that means I'm a bit screwed up---half "run (sideways) and hide!" and half "you talkin' to me motherfucker?"

Hmmm I started saying motherfucker at twelve years old just to piss my mom off. Because I'm a Taurus and I do things just because I'm told not too. Balls is an easy one, but I'm not sure I want to touch the porn one with a ten inch pole...hahahaha..because I don't want to have that discussion with my mom. Ewwwww.

Hilarious to read because just last night I had to bring up the topic of sex while sitting at a table eating enchiladas and drinking sangria with my mother. It was a very very quick sentence...I'm still hoping I don't have to go back to that topic anytime soon with her.

Baby steps, indeed. I can say all the bad words (yes, ALL of them) in front of my mother, but it didn't happen overnight, let me tell you. You've got to WORK at these things, and sometimes, it takes years. Don't give up, Heather, you'll get there.

Oh gosh. I say stuff like that in front of my mom just because I think it's funny to see her reaction. Of course she lets some stuff slide from her lips that I can't believe has come from my mother too.

Balls and porn, perhaps I should have these words made into t-shirts for my kids. I'm not sure which one will wear which, but since I have 3 kids, perhaps one is doomed to wear one that says "Suze Orman says to invest in balls and porn".

I left a post-BlogHer bag on the floor at my mom's house, and she went all snooping through it cause it had the pretty, shiny swag stuff in it. And the vibrator. It also had the swag vibrator, and the KY stuff.

So of course I'm all, THEY gave me that stuff, the PEOPLE, the people in CALIFORNIA. And my mom, she said, "Well, if you need a vibrator, you need a vibrator."

And then I turned some scary shade of deep purply red and I don't remember the rest of the conversation. ;)

what I want to know is, would you have mentioned that Suze Ormon's jacket collection, while impressive, is missing the most important jacket ever - the one emblazoned with the words "balls and motherfucking porn" on the back and down the sleeves?

Now this I can relate to. Just reading this in my parents basement makes me feel giddy, somewhat empowered and perhaps like I need to go to confession. Dammit. I can scream balls and motherfucking porn and COOOOOOOCK on the top of my lungs in the 'sphere but the guilt still sends me to the closet.

LOL. I still can't say some of that around my mom. It has to be a dire situation before I get to break out the shit's and dammit's. Itsn't that just sad? And usually she's the one who gets to say the dirty words because I'm the one with the bad news, etc. that brings on the cussing...lol.

hahaha! heather you are fecking hilarious! and no i couldn't say those words in front of my parents either....quick story...the other day i was putting on lotion to make my skin moist (hahaha) after having a shower.my 3 year old stinkerbell was playing on my floor with her lego train and pointed at me and said "is that fur?"well i just about fell off my bed FUR? THEN SHE SAID I'LL TAKE IT OFF FOR YOU MOm and she reached up and pulled some fluff off my foot. hahaha! dirty minds....

I think I have the opposite effect where I should be embarrassed but I'm not. The day I was in a restaurant talking about rimming and the women at the next table spit out a mouthful of soup I realized I may have a problem.